Fake
by Guinda
Summary: When he looks at her, he sees a fraud. When she looks at him, she sees a liar. And both push to prove the other wrong and themselves right.


Fake.

Uchiha Sasuke had considered a lot of words during his time in chains: Disgusting. Miserable. Prison. Failure. Incompetent.

Liars.

Weaklings.

Betrayers.

Words. More words.

Only "fake" seemed appropriate. It's not that the other words were wrong, or incorrect. "Fake" just more accurately described everything that happened here. Everywhere.

Fake smiles when people said hello. Fake smiles (or, rather, relieved ones) when they said goodbye.

Fake friends. Fake enemies. Fake lovers. Fake rivals. Fake leaders. Fake followers.

He knew whoever was cooking his barely edible food everyday was a fake chef. Whoever had designed these now-broken chains was certainly a fake blacksmith. Whoever had designed this prison (in which he had located no less than 5 possible escape routes during his stay) was a fake prison designer. Whoever had sealed his chakra tenketsu (and accidentally-on-purpose did a little more) was both an asshole and a fake Hyuuga. Whoever it was that had been snoring (now apologizing, he mused) outside his cell at the moment was certainly a fake prison guard. The shinobi that opened the door was a fake.

Fake. Fake. Fake.

Even this well-endowed, brown-eyed, blonde-hair-tied-into-twin-pigtails woman standing over him with her arms crossed, with her (fake) four-person entourage standing behind her, was a fake. Her flawless skin, luscious hair and supple (at the moment pursed) lips were fake.

Except for her eyes. Her eyes couldn't hide the age, the years, and the, yes, wisdom they held. She could mask the damage age had done to her body, but her beautiful, sepia eyes were old. Weary. Framed with years of sadness, mourning and depression.

They were mesmerizing, he decided. Real. He hadn't seen something this captivating since he'd been here, not even from wonder-boy Naruto or Konoha's beloved Sakura. Both were as fake as fake could get.

But this was fresh. This was new. So as Tsunade, with a confused quirk of an eyebrow at his attention, began to speak, he stared straight into them, throwing away any semblance of shame or self-awareness.

"I'm flattered, Uchiha, but I think I'm a little old for you."

"Age is just a number," he croaked out. His throat was hoarse from a lack of usage but he didn't give any physical indication that it bothered him; didn't clear his throat, didn't cough, didn't swallow saliva to try and hydrate himself. These meetings, he knew, were a contest, and one that absolutely refused to lose. He knew the only thing that was keeping him alive at the moment was a surprising outcry of public support, and if there was one absolute certainty in Uchiha Sasuke's life, it was that he wanted to live.

Whether he still wanted to be a shinobi was a different matter. But he was breathing, lucid, and above all else he was human. He wanted to live.

Tsunade sighed and, much to the surprise of her escort (and to him), shut the door firmly behind her before squatting down in front of him. Almost immediately, they started knocking on the door, calling out to her. Ignoring their worried voices, she squared her eyes (those beautiful, sad eyes) with his. "I'll be honest with you. You'll be honest with me. Deal?"

"Fine."

She heaved another sigh and pointedly eyed his broken chains before settling down in a crossed-legged position. "You know that isn't helping your case."

Sasuke raised his worn wrists. "They chafe."

"I said be honest."

"They're uncomfortable, they chafe, and whatever kind of metal they're made of is giving me a rash."

"They're _supposed _to be uncomfortable. You're a prisoner, not a guest."

"But say I get out," Sasuke said. "Or some prisoner is found innocent. Wouldn't you at least want them to say that their unfair detention was at least comfortable?"

"Maybe. But we don't put anyone here unless people really, _really _don't like them," Tsunade responded sweetly.

"You said you'd be honest."

"Well, I didn't say _I _didn't like you. Although I'm still too old for you, no matter how much you stare at me like that."

"'Too old' isn't saying no."

She barked out a loud laugh which she immediately tried to stifle as the entourage outside the door stirred, spurring them to bang on the door, which put an unforced smile on Sasuke's face. She was relaxed now, and leaned back on her arms. "Please stop. You're an absolutely terrible flirt."

Sasuke shrugged. "I can't say I've had much practice."

"Fair enough." Tsunade eyed him for a moment before continuing. "Here's the deal," she said. "A lot of shinobi want you dead. A lot. Myself included."

"Fine."

"It's not personal, but right now, keeping you alive is a lot more trouble than seeing you dead. And no matter how many times certain... parties... insist otherwise, I won't sacrifice the lives of any shinobi under my command for your sake."

"I didn't ask for an excuse."

"I'm not giving one. Honesty means complete honesty."

"So why not do away with me?"

"You know why," she said pointedly. And he did.

Sasuke's arrest and subsequent transfer to Konoha (a decision the other shinobi villages were extremely unhappy with) went about as he expected, right up until he actually arrived in Konoha to a hero's welcome. Initially he, like many of the returning, war-weary shinobi, thought it was a welcome home party for the returning veterans. And, to an extent, it was. But many had come to see him, even going so far as to travel from villages and countries across the map, all to give him blessings and thanks. An angry Tsunade had turned on Sasuke then, demanding to know who these people were and, more importantly, why they were here chanting his name.

They, as it turned out, were fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, nephews and nieces, cousins, neighbors, acquaintances, and everything else in between, of the thousands Orochimaru had imprisoned in secret bases around the world for experiments and tests. And, as fate would have it, they all revered him as their savior.

It wasn't long before the Kages were forced to convene again, stunned (or extremely pissed off) by this unexpected turn of events. While most shinobi regarded Sasuke negatively, non-shinobi and civilians across the nations viewed him not as a traitor, but as the man who had brought home a long lost neighbor, or the father of a once-widowed wife, or a mother separated from her two children. Even some shinobi supported him for rescuing their partners, lovers, relatives or teachers. He was, for all intents and purposes, the most popular man in the world. People were sending gifts or making long pilgrimages to see him and thank him, both for defeating Orochimaru and for securing the releases of those dear to them.

The news of his impending execution had started riots in various villages. Although shinobi were obviously key sources of income in their respective villages, it was the non-shinobi who made the villages tick and made up the majority of the population. As a result, it was the majority that backed Sasuke's immediate release, and the only reason he was still breathing. Until the Kage's could come up with an appropriate decision, he'd been left to rot in this (fake) prison.

It made him smile sometimes thinking about it. He hadn't thought too much of freeing prisoners back then. It'd been nothing more than a whim, a way of wiping of the stench of that disgusting, pathetic snake off his being, and really he had Suigetsu to thank for his newfound fame.

Maybe Suigetsu had seen this coming. Maybe he'd known Sasuke would find himself in a corner one day and would need support from someone. He found it hard to believe that such a goofball could think so far ahead, but it certainly was possible.

Too bad Suigetsu wasn't alive to see it.

The thought made him a little sad.

"So where does that leave us, Tsunade?"

"Hokage-sama." Her correction didn't merit a response, so he didn't give one, which seemed to annoy her. "We've... _graciously_ decided to promote you to house arrest."

Sasuke immediately saw where this was going. Or, at least, where the idea had come from. Who else wanted him out from the confines of a high-security prison and in an exposed, lightly guarded, easy-to-get-to-a-certain-prisoner-and-maim-him-brutally house? "You agreed with him?"

Tsunade didn't bother feigning ignorance. It was well-known just how badly the Raikage wanted Sasuke's head on a silver platter. "Actually, Tsuchikage-sama brought it up. He didn't have much of a choice. His village was notorious for its ties with Akatsuki, and Orochimaru by extension. They were hit hardest by Orochimaru's... experiments... and ended up getting the most in return." Her lips curled into a smile. "I hear they've been petitioning to have you moved to Iwagakure. You're quite the famous man there."

He didn't bite on the joke. "House arrest where? Apparently I don't have a house here anymore. Or money."

"We've arranged something for you." The knocking was more insistent now. "You'll be safe."

"Do you _want_ me to be safe?"

"Yes," Tsunade said, getting to her feet. "If I had the choice of keeping you alive and safe with no consequence, I'd take it. And, if anyone asks, we were discussing the incompetence of the security here."

Sasuke tossed her his broken restraints. "How did you guess?"

With one last smile, Tsunade opened the door to reveal a group of very upset shinobi. "Tsunade-sama! You can't just put yourself in a room alone with such a dangerous prisoner!"

"Oh hush. His chakra is completely sealed. Besides, he could have broken out at a moment's notice."

His fake security guard began babbling. "Ho-Hokage-sama, I don't thi-"

On cue, she threw the chains in his face. "Well I do." And with a casual flip of her hair, she strut straight down the hall and out of sight, leaving Sasuke smiling grimly at his terrified prison guard, who squeaked with fear before coming to his senses and slamming the door shut.

Alone in the dark again, Sasuke shuffled backwards until his back hit a wall and sat still, meditating, his face contorted with thought. While he could certainly escape the prison, the only reason he hadn't was because he wasn't strong enough to get much further, not with his chakra sealed away. And all house arrest would do was put his vulnerable self in position for repeated assassination attempts and, if he knew just how badly certain people wanted him dead, he knew one would be successful.

And with no way to get his chakra unsealed, his only hope was in whatever half-assed idea Tsunade had come up with.

He'd seen everything he needed to in her eyes. He'd seen the loss, the pain, the depression, but also too did he see the resolve that had brought her out of that same depression and pushed her forward. There was strength in her. Wisdom. Honor.

She was a worthy Hokage, he decided. And it wouldn't be horrible to trust her. He rather liked her, if anything. She was no-nonsense, brusque, direct, and bright. She was vain, as evidenced by her disguise, but at least she wore her faults on her sleeve (or, he supposed, her skin) instead of hiding it away.

Hell, if she were younger, he might very well have fallen in love with her.

Ah, well. For now he'd trust his life to her instead of his heart.

His life was the more valuable of the two anyway.

_End Prologue_


End file.
